


==> Crash A Funeral In New And Exciting Ways

by PennamePersona



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Death, Friendship, M/M, Overcoming Fear, Trauma, dead daves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-24
Updated: 2017-12-24
Packaged: 2019-02-19 16:39:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13127511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PennamePersona/pseuds/PennamePersona
Summary: “No,” You say. “Fuck no, no, definitely not, we are not doing that.”“Doing what?” John asks eagerly.“Visiting some dead Daves,” You say, just as Rose says, “Crashing a rather large funeral.”





	==> Crash A Funeral In New And Exciting Ways

**Author's Note:**

  * For [twinOrigins](https://archiveofourown.org/users/twinOrigins/gifts).



> Happy Candlenights and Holiday Season to everyone, but more specifically, to Alex @ lampshades-just-lampshades, who is Raven_Athena here! I hope you enjoy your gift, Alex!

It starts the way most things tend to start: with Karkat shouting.

 

You’re mostly tuning him out by this point, being long accustomed to the dulcet tones of your darling, but John is nearly on the edge of his seat, looking ready to either laugh his ass off or take notes.

 

“Karkat,” Kanaya interjects at some point in the ranting. “Why are you even bringing this up? Isn’t it a bit late for…that?”

 

“I hardly think so! Just because it’s been a few sweeps since Aradia brought it up doesn’t mean - ”

 

“Wait, someone brought this up before?” John’s asking, and okay, you’re tuning in now, your interest is caught.

 

“Brought what up?” You ask, and John laughs.

 

“Dave, you haven’t been paying attention? I thought since you are Karkat are…well, y’know - ”

 

“You can say dating, Johnnycakes,” You say, toneless as ever when it comes to John’s utter ineptitude with anything not approximating heterosexuality, despite everyone around him being anything but straight. “And no matter how often I look into his beautiful eyes and tell him I love him, his shouting still gets old.”

 

“Shut the fuck up,” Karkat says, almost softly.

 

“Unlikely,” You and Kanaya say at the same time. You hold your hand up for a silent fist bump, without looking at her. She does not leave you hanging. Hell yes.

 

“As I was saying,” Karkat huffs, a slight smile on his face, which, hey, is always nice to see. “We should do something about the dead people.”

 

“Nope,” You say. “Nuh uh. Done with dead people, more specifically done with dead Daves, but no matter what or who or whatever, I’m not doing this.”

 

“C’mon, Dave, you can’t still be hung up about that,” John says, as though he understands, as though he could ever understand the weight of being forced to see your own death over and over and over until you couldn’t stand it anymore, wanted to be one of the dead Daves just to keep yourself from being the one they all died for, and all in the span of a 24 hour period.

 

“Yes,” You say, instead of all of that. “I can.”

 

“Better idea,” Rose says, from where she’s sitting next to Kanaya. You don’t think she’s piped in much this conversation, being as used to Karkat’s ranting and raving as you, though for her through the proxy of Kanaya, so the fact that she is talking now does not bode well for you.

 

“No, it’s not.” You say with absolute certainty.

 

“Let’s hear her out,” Karkat says, and oh, this is never what you want. Your boyfriend and your sister agreeing on something is never, ever what you want, it has too much potential for the worst time of your life, ever.

 

“Let’s not,” You say, but Rose is already talking over you.

 

“Perhaps we should experience some other forms of funerals before we nail down our own method of mourning our fallen comrades,” Rose says, which sounds fine at first, until you realize what she means a hot second later.

 

“No,” You say. “Fuck no, no, definitely not, we are not doing that.”

 

“Doing what?” John asks eagerly.

 

“Visiting some dead Daves,” You say, just as Rose says, “Crashing a rather large funeral.”

 

* * *

 

What it comes down to is this: You’re worried about Dave.

 

It’s not an uncommon experience; after all, he is to you all that a partner can be, in the sense he understands, and as far as you’re concerned, he’s everything concupiscent could ever mean and more and just exactly right in the ways that fit just inside your ribcage perfectly.

 

And so you worry about him, over him, because you don’t want him to be in pain, hurt, anything you can’t protect him from, and what luck you’ve had in your romantic escapades that Dave Strider’s particular brand of hurt is almost solely the kind you cannot protect him from. His pain stems from a childhood of wrongness that you can and cannot understand, his issues from looking up to someone he now hates, from being so far apart from everyone who ever believed in him, those three people he could bring himself to trust, and then That Day happened.

 

You’re no stranger to the horrors that the game can bring. You caused enough of them yourself, but now, seeing the torment that Dave still puts himself through because he was not only a knight, not only a time player, but a Knight of Time, expected to sacrifice himself to the relentless demands of Skaia, and of course he did it because he wouldn’t have been Dave if he hadn’t.

 

But the scar of seeing yourself dead that many times over, knowing that the reason they (you) all died was to save you (the person they weren’t allowed to be) and though you know it, you also know you can never understand it, just as Dave will never understand the pains brought on by your rushed job of creating a universe, not the way you do.

 

So when Rose suggests funeral crashing, you guess at her meaning before Dave’s ‘dead Daves’ comment sinks in.

 

* * *

 

“Just so we’re clear, I’m very against this.” Dave says, because who would your brother be if he didn’t complain constantly?

 

“I’m aware,” You say, sure to include all the care in your voice that you possess. It’s an infinitesimally miniscule amount, which you’re sure Dave appreciates.

 

“I note that you still dressed for the occasion,” Kanaya points out, because she’s wonderful.

 

“Obviously.” Dave says, nodding in such a way that suggests his “coolness” is “mad wicked off the rack yo” or some other such nonsense that you of course never quoted in iambic pentameter at age 13 along with him. Obviously, that would be embarrassing to the person you are now, so you never would’ve succumbed to such fun.

 

(You totally still do it whenever you have your “sick sibling sleepovers.”)

 

Kanaya smirks, which is only a problem because it reminds you of how she and Dave get along, which is to say, almost precisely like a house on fire. You’ve experienced that once, thank you very much, and have no reason to desire a second go, but here is your wife, and there is your brother, and that over there is the very nice house that they did very much set ablaze a few months ago.

 

“Wow, we’re all so fancy!” John exclaims.

 

“Of course we are, dorkwad,” Karkat says, almost affectionately. “It’s a funeral. They’re dressy occasions, or so Kanaya told me approximately ten thousand and seventeen times when she forced me into this monkey suit.”

 

“You’re welcome,” Kanaya says. She has every right – Karkat looks fantastic in his suit.

 

“Can we just do this already,” Dave whines, which you are fully well aware he is only doing to cover up his not insignificant anxiety surrounding the situation.

 

“Of course,” You say. “John, if you would?”

 

And then the vestiges of a power beyond belief is sweeping you into dream bubbles you have nightmares about, just in time to see an assembly of duplicated (and dead) versions of your friends, as well as you, surrounding a mass of dead Daves.

 

* * *

 

The trouble is that they aren’t lying down. You were told that the corpses were meant to lie there, not simulating their death but experiencing it, and while you’re aware that these particular deceased beings aren’t the traditional corpse, when your wife told the rest of your party that she’d found a funeral of sorts for the fallen Daves from their run at the game, you’d expected…

 

Not this.

 

They’re standing there, clearly uncomfortable, and the whiteness of their eyes unnerves you. You’re close with Dave, though not in the way he is with Rose, and certainly not the way you are with Karkat, but you are close, good friends, and seeing him so obviously, multiply dead is problematic to say the least.

 

“I do not like this,” You mutter to Rose, who only nods.

 

You glance at the rest of your party, focusing in on Karkat almost instantly. His mouth is open, for once silent as he takes in the wreckage of this man – no, these are still boy Daves, 13 years old and dead, dead, dead, and so many of them. There are a few who are older, 16 maybe, from that timeline that never was, and it’s awful to behold.

 

Your moirail is in shock, it seems, or worse yet, he’s not, surrounded as he is with the physical reminder of his love’s greatest pain. You want to go to him, comfort him, leave Dave’s wellbeing to Rose because this is your responsibility, this is what you do, and then Dave speaks.

 

* * *

 

“What’s up?” Dave calls out to the sea of all the people none of you ever were.

 

“Not much,” One of the dead Daves calls back almost instantly.

 

“Party crashing, I see,” Another calls, to some mild laughter among the ranks.

 

“You know how Rose gets,” Your Dave calls back, and the laughter multiplies. You see many of them nod, and you aren’t sure if your nausea is going down or if it’s just numbing shock settling in.

 

“Come on, guys,” Dave – your Dave, the alive one, thank everything, even Skaia, that he’s alive, and you’ve never thought to be so glad that you all survived until this moment – says, gesturing for all of you to follow him as he merges with the crowd.

 

“Well, guys, you heard him,” You say, swallowing hard and following your friend into the fray.

 

* * *

 

You hear John telling the others to follow you as you make your way into the dead Daves. You don’t wait for them, too caught up in the relief that flooded you as soon as you set your eyes on all of them.

 

“Hey there,” You say to a thousandth incarnation of yourself, one who Skaia decided wasn’t the right one, and he smiles at you.

 

You hadn’t realized until you saw them just what your problem had been. It wasn’t that they were dead, and it wasn’t that you weren’t – it was the unfairness and the fear that they held it against you.

 

What you hadn’t counted on was the growth that these awful dream bubbles allowed for, or the growth you’d gone through, yourself.

 

You chat with many of them, eventually getting to the edges and talking to dead Roses, dead Jades, dead Johns, and it’s such a relief to interact with these people who had always been a huge part of your experience with this god awful game, and to know they’ve been waiting to interact with you, too.

 

“Karkat, really?” One of them asks you, and you laugh, really laugh, throw your head back and really let out the disbelief you still feel over the subject.

 

“Really,” You say, grinning. “I love him, he loves me, all that good stuff.”

 

“Rad,” Another says, and you agree.

 

It’s wonderful, and though you know it’s solely you having this good a time, you also know that this is a worthwhile experience for everyone, even if they wouldn’t believe it right now.

 

After all, how many people get to look death in the face and ask him what’s up?

**Author's Note:**

> Love comments and kudos! Happy Holidays again!
> 
> [my tumblr](http://www.pennamepersona.tumblr.com)


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